Fame and Fortune
by east-side-stories
Summary: When the class gets a new assignment, Harry and Draco decide to have a poll on who would be the dominating one between them. That leads to giving the public what they want. DracoXHarry, BlaiseXRon ON HIATUS
1. First Day in a New Class

**Chapter One: First Day in the New Class**

"Today, we'll be studying the makeup of a wizarding family. I have paired you up into groups accordingly, so that you can demonstrate with each other what a model couple would be like. You'll plan out what your house looks like, your future jobs, your incomes, and whether or not you'll have kids. You'll be looking into different lifestyles and seeing the differences between them. Pay attention while I call out groups." The new Lifestyle's teacher instructed. Dumbledore had apparently decided that Hogwarts needed a teacher like this. God only knows why.

Harry Potter watched in a bored fashion as the new teacher, Mrs. Jewel, assigned the class into pairs. He couldn't help but pay attention when he noticed that most of the class was paired up and he wasn't. Why, there could only be about four people left... Susan, Draco, Crabbe, and him. But... that couldn't be right. Harry must have ticked the people off wrong in his mind, right? There was only one girl, and three guys. How would that work? He must have made a mistake.

"Susan and Crabbe," the teacher all but sang, "And now, for our very last couple..."

Harry felt like he was about to be sick. He glanced around the room, noticing that his best friends looked the same. But not for the same reasons. Ron had been paired up with Pansy Parkinson, and Hermione had been put with Blaise Zabini. They had plenty of reason to look sick without his problem. They were stuck with Slytherins, enough said.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."  
And now, so was he.


	2. WTFOMG

**Chapter Two: WTFOMG**

For a long moment, no one moved. Barely anyone even moved their eyes. They were mostly staring ahead blankly, processing the information.

Draco was the first to recover, "But Professor Jewel, I don't think you understand," he retorted, "We're both guys. As in both male, as in not a couple, as in.."

"Enemies, as in we hate each other, as in..." Harry added.

"Not a couple, as in we -" Draco continued.

"Can't do this project together." The two boys said in unison.

Mrs. Jewel smiled at them, "I'm glad you both agree," she said, "Now, as long as you are on the same page, working together will be simple. Honestly, you're not actually getting married. This is a school assignment. It's no big deal."

"Wait till my father hears about this," Draco threatened, "Why should I be one of the only two boys in the classroom who gets paired with another guy?"

Mrs. Jewel considered, "Well," she said, "Blaise, Parkinson; switch partners." She turned back to Draco, "There. Now you're not one of two. You're one of four."

Draco dropped his jaw and Blaise let out a hearty laugh while he watched the expression of his new partner's face. Ron looked absolutely hilarious with his jaw on the floor...

Hermione's hand shot up and she was quickly called upon, "Professor Jewel, I believe that this is a very well thought-out project, and that it will be helpful for us to look into gay couples in the wizarding world. I think that we'll find that things are just as hard—perhaps harder—for them in the wizarding world as the muggle world, and I think that this is a really fascinating learning experience."

Mrs. Jewel smiled, "I'm glad you think so. Class Dismissed. Make sure to grab a project overview on your way out and get started. Most work will be done outside the classroom. Good day."

Harry glanced once again at his best friend Ron, finding that he looked like he was about to puke.

Oops, make that he was going to puke. Ron ran out to the garbage can with his hand over his mouth, leaning into the object and hurling inside. Blaise ran over to pat/rub/grope his back, having way too much fun in doing so.

A look in Hermione's direction told him all he wanted to know about her situation too—and that was Pansy leaning over his friend, threatening her so that she would do all the work.

Yeah, like that was something that needed to be done. Of course Hermione would do all the work. Sheesh.

Then there was a body blocking Harry's view, which the brunette didn't appreciate. He looked up into the face of Draco Malfoy and frowned, "What do you want?" he demanded of the blonde.

The taller boy sneered, "We're a couple now, Harry," he said, "So when do you want to work on the project?"

"We're not a couple, Malfoy, and don't-"

"Call you Harry. I got it. So answer-"

"Your question," Harry finished for him, out of spite, "Well let's see... no day of any week because I hate you. I'd rather fail than work with you."

"What; too embarrassed of being my hypothetical bitch?" Draco smirked.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I obviously have the dominating personality here," Draco reasoned, looking proud.

"Well, out of the two of us, you're a wuss and I'm brave. Plus I'm gonna save the world, Malfoy. I think that makes you MY hypothetical bitch," Harry argued.

"You're arguing a lost cause," Draco said, shaking his head, "I'd bet ten gallons that if we took a survey, most everyone would say that you'd be my bitch. Hypothetically, I mean."

"No way," Harry said, "People aren't that dumb."

"We'll see, won't we?" Draco countered.

"You're on," Harry said, slamming his hands down and walking proudly out of the room. He totally had the vote cased. He knew he did. He was so totally dominant to Draco, right? He thought so.

But Draco didn't agree. Hypothetically, he would never be anyone's bitch. Never. It just wasn't something that would happen. Ever.

* * *

_A/N: Hey yo. In your reviews, vote:_

_DRACOxHARRY_

_HARRYxDRACO_


	3. Here We Go

"Well, it's obvious that people like me as a hypothetical top better," Harry stated as the two of them crossed the yard. They had asked seven people at that point, questioning as to who would top whom—hypothetically of course.

"Harry, you have two. I have five," Draco stated.

"Whatever. My two could wipe the floor with your five."

"...There's your Mudblood friend. Let' go ask her."

"Hermione," Harry corrected the blonde, "HERMIONE! COME OVER HERE A SECOND!"

Hermione, turning to find Harry and Draco walking together—voluntarily no less, was quite shocked. She recovered quickly and loped over, looking between them before daring to ask, "What?"

"Hermione," Harry started, "If Draco and I were in a relationship, then who do you think would be the uh.... bitch?"

"Hypothetically," Draco threw in, giving Harry a look.

"Hypothetically," Harry corrected himself.

Hermione was frozen on the spot. It took her overly large brain a moment to register, and then it clicked. Or, more like snapped, "OH MY GOD," she screamed, getting excited, "BOTH! BOTH WAYS!!!"

Harry and Draco shared a look, "Harry, your friends are crazy," Draco stated, turning back to Hermione, "And that's not a straight answer."

Harry shrugged, "I have three now," he stated proudly, leaving Hermione in a dreamy daze.

Malfoy followed after him, "Yes, but that means I have six now. That's twice as much as you."

Harry glared at him, "Well, that's just because we were asking the wrong people. We asked your friends, like Pansy and Blaise, but if we talked to-"

"The Weasel voted for you, and the Mudblood went both ways. We have asked your friends. And that Luna girl, too."

"Yes but she voted for you to be hypothetically dominant, so she's not really my friend."

"That's awful low of you," Draco stated, inwardly grinning. Even Harry's friends thought that the blonde would make a better top. In his opinion, that was just perfect. Of course he would hypothetically have Harry as a bitch—if it ever happened that they got together, which they were not going to.

But, hypothetically if they did, that's what would go down. Draco was sure of it.

Three Weeks Later

The assignment in their Lifestyles class was starting to ruin the boy's lives. Every time they tried to get together to work on it, all they did was cause people to spread rumours about them. Seeing the two together, the students automatically assumed that they were together _like that_.

"We never should have taken that vote thing," Harry groaned, flopping onto a library chair, across the table from Draco, "Everyone took it to mean we were actually together."

Draco snorted, "You should be thankful," he said, "Not many people get the honour of even being rumoured to be with me."

Harry glared at the blond, "How humble of you," he muttered, then pushed open one of the books on the table, "Let's just get this hour over with, okay?"

"Sure," Draco agreed, sitting back to watch Harry read and take notes.

Noticing this, Harry scowled, "You have to work too, you know."

Draco raised a brow, "You asking for help?"

Harry frowned, "No, I'm ordering you to work."

"Can't handle it by yourself?"

"Just help me you dumb prat."

"Throwing insults now, Harry?" Draco grinned, leaning over the table toward the other boy.

Harry shoved a book at him, "Read, then take notes. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can be out of your presence."

Draco smirked, taking the book, "I know you love my presence."

"I do not."

"I'll bet you missed me since yesterday's Lifestyle's class."

"Don't kid yourself."

"You're in denial."

"Will you shut up?"

"Only if you kiss me."

"....excuse me?" Harry almost dropped his book. Had he heard right?

"You heard me."

"I don't think I did," Harry shot back, closing his book and setting it aside. He was going to pay full attention to the conversation.

Draco smirked, obviously pleased with himself, "Everyone we asked was excited to reply to our little poll. Even now, people watch us because they want us together. Don't you think we should give them what they want?"

"Wh-NO!!" Harry shouted. A few impatient 'sh!!'s came from around the library, but the librarian was flipping pages in a book and couldn't give half a shit how loud the two were.

Draco sneered, leaning back with his hands behind his head, "Afraid of sharing your spotlight, Potter?"

Harry glared at the other, "That's not the reason."

"Sure it is," Draco replied, "If you're not scared of sharing your spotlight, then you should take me up on this offer. If anything, it would improve your image."

"No, I don't think it would," Harry snapped, "And I don't care what my 'image' is. I don't care at all. And pretending to be with you would be a nightmare."

Draco wiggled his eyebrows, "Scared?"

"For the last time, I-"

"Chicken."

"You know what? I d-"

"Wuss."

"Okay, that's it. You're on," Harry said, leaning in, "We'll pretend to be together—just to see what happens."

"I knew you'd see it my way," Draco stated, looking at his nails.

Harry glared, opening his book and skimming the page. He decided to immerse himself in literature to avoid his blonde nemesis. And even if Draco talked, Harry decided he would not answer.

"So, about that kiss..." Draco trailed off.

"Not happening."

The next day, Harry didn't want to get out of bed. What could he have possibly been thinking; agreeing to pretend to be with Draco? That wasn't in his game plan. Why did he do that? Was it too late to take it back?

But even so, it didn't really matter. It wasn't as if he was going to be topped by Draco in any way, shape, or form. He wasn't about to allow himself to look like the weaker one. No sir, he had people to impress and Voldemortes to kill. He didn't have time to look weak or something. If Draco thought that he'd be getting his way, the blonde had another thing coming.

Slipping off of his bed, Harry stretched lazily and yawned.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron said, sitting up, "What did you do last night??"

Harry got a dreading feeling, and looked behind him at his bed. To his surprise, Draco was not there. The blonde hadn't stooped that low.

But still, what was Ron talking about?

Ron noticed the questioning look that Harry gave him and decided to clarify, "Your neck, Harry. And chest." He smiled brightly, "Who was it? Cho??"

Harry raced off into the bathroom, finding that hickeys had been strategically placed on his neck, chest, and even one half-under his waistband. The brunette stared a moment until it finally clicked in: Draco.

But then, the blonde couldn't have come into his dorm. He didn't know the password. Also, no one would have let him in. So then, how did...

Dobby was scrubbing the toilet and glanced over at Harry, "Why are you wearing a glamour, master?" he asked innocently.

Ah. Glamour. That would explain a few things. Harry strutted back to his bed and grabbed his wand, casting the spell that would take away the glamour.

It didn't work.

Frustrated, Harry glared at his wand and tried again. And again. Apparently, the glamour had been protected somehow by other charms. Since he didn't know what those other charms were, Harry couldn't take it off.

Damn Draco to hell.

"I'm so proud of you, mate," Ron said with a grin, "I knew you and Cho would work things out."

Harry could lie to his friend. He could tell Ron that it was indeed Cho, and that the two of them had slept together—or something. But he'd never lied to his friend before (if he didn't need to) and he didn't really want to start.

"They weren't from Cho," Harry stated, pulling on a fresh shirt.

"Then who? Luna? Hannah?? Susan???"

"No, no, and no. I'm hungry," Harry said, changing the subject.

It worked. At the mention of food, Ron was one-track minded, "Yeah, mate! Let's go get something to eat!"

"I'll catch up in a minute," Harry stated. Ron nodded and left the room, leaving the brunette in there alone.

Harry growled, flipping up the collar on his shirt to cover a rather large bite-mark. Oh, he would get Draco for this alright.


	4. Owned

**Chapter Four:**

Harry stormed out of his room, heading down the hallway. What should he do to Draco? Killing him would be the most satisfying, though that probably wasn't a good idea. Tempting, but not good.

Sighing, Harry silently fumed that one of the hickeys could not be covered on his neck. He'd tried everything, but even flipping up his collar didn't work. He'd tried necklaces and other things like chokers, but nothing covered the mark. It was downright unfair.

Though that was probably part of Draco's plan, Harry figured. Draco had placed a few in strange places so that Ron would see and probably tell Hermione and then someone would overhear them and then more rumours would spread...

Which is what would happen as soon as Ron remembered to tell Hermione. Knowing Ron, the moment he started eating would be the moment his mind skipped to something other than food, at which time he would remember... So by the time Harry got to breakfast, the whole school would know of the latest development. There was no way around it.

Harry sighed. What should his reaction be? He could act like it never happened and be confused at what people asked him, he could play the submissive and blush about it or something ridiculous like that, he could laugh when people questioned him, he could get mad, he could ignore them altogether, or...

Well, there really were a lot of reactions Harry could make. Choosing the one that most made him look like the hypothetical dominant would be the best. Which options would bring about that image the best? Harry wasn't sure, his hypothetical relationship with Draco was tiring mentally.

But wait... were they still hypothetical even if they were together? Or...

Deciding to let the matter drop and think about other things, Harry slowed his pace at once and shoved his hands in his pockets as he passed through the hallways of the school. They were wide and empty, his slow footsteps echoing off the walls and in the statues of armour nearby. He was taking his time going to breakfast—there really was no reason to rush until he had a few things figured out.

If they were together, him and Draco, then they wouldn't be hypothetically together, they would simply be together. Sure, they were only together because Draco had... Harry's mind dropped off the thought and he stopped in the hall, a horrified look on his face. Draco had been the one to ask Harry out. Hypothetically, wasn't that the top's job? The bottom's job was to say yes.

Harry tried not to panic—that was fine, one strike against him but he'd recover. No one would know who asked who out—it's not like they'd know unless Draco told them... which he probably did. Or would. Either way, people would know. Harry had to redeem himself somehow, or perhaps get a better revenge.

Grinding his teeth together, Harry picked up his pace to a near jog. He wanted to get into the lunchroom and kick Draco's ass before eating; it seemed necessary. He wouldn't get his appetite back until he did _something_.

Coming through the doors of the great hall, every eye was on him. Harry was used to that and simply continued on toward Draco's table, set on bitching the other out and beating his ass until the whole school knew who was stronger and ultimately the hypothetical top. Yeah that's right, Harry believed in showing and not telling. He was going to do a spectacular job of showing, too.

Unfortunately, it did not go as he had planned.

Harry made it all the way to the Slytherin table and almost to Draco while he decided that he would punch the other first and scream at him after that. Still, even with a plan, Harry didn't get the chance to do anything because just at the moment when Harry was going to swing his arm at Draco, he tripped. The fall only lasted about a second before Harry fell into Draco's arms, being embraced by the other.

The entire school was the captive audience, making 'ooo's and 'awe's at the scene in front of them. From the school's point of view, Harry had ran over to Draco and thrown himself into the other's arms.

But such really was not the case. In fact, Harry was all too aware that Draco had cast a spell on his shoelaces to make them tie together and cause him to fall forward. Draco was really not playing fair, and doing a damn good job of playing dirty. For once, Harry wished vaguely that he was in Slytherin. Perhaps then he'd have the proper training for such a battle of wits.

Peeling himself out of Draco's arms and standing upright again, Harry had a quite present red flush to his cheeks. To the school, it appeared as a blush. To Harry, his face was red out of pure rage. He opened his mouth to scream when Draco reached forward and put a finger on the brunette's lips, stopping any words that he may have been about to say. Draco stood from the table and was directly in front of Harry, but standing in such a way that the school had a good view. Draco didn't want anyone to miss what was coming next, smirking in his usual condescending way.

Harry had lost his nerve then, pausing to look around at all of the faces of the congregation. Everyone—including Snape—looked anxious; like they were on the edge of their seats waiting for Harry and Draco to kiss.

Harry almost scoffed at the though. Yeah, like _that_ was ever going to-

And then, Draco's finger was replaced by his lips, grabbing Harry's full attention back to what was going on.

The brunette found that it was unacceptable. How dare Draco initiate a kiss like that!?! Taking the initiative was a top's job, and Draco was no top, that was Harry's hypothetical position!

Focused on proving this to the school, Harry kissed Draco passionately, trying to deepen the kiss and take control.

But Draco was having none of that and simply broke from the kiss, watching as Harry leaned forward a bit when the blonde pulled away. Harry hadn't expected Draco to pull away and hadn't really noticed how hard he was pressing against the other, so when Draco retracted a bit, Harry couldn't help but rock forward slightly, falling against the other a bit before catching himself again.

The audience of the Hall was enrapt intensely, having just seen the two boys kiss passionately. Also, when Draco pulled away, they'd seen Harry lean forward for a few seconds, as if wanting more. As if missing Draco's touch already. It was utterly cute and romantic. Snape looked like he was about to puke along with half of the population, but the other half was starry-eyed. No one spoke. It was quieter than it had ever been in the Hall, because even if they didn't like what they were watching, the students and teachers found that they couldn't look away.

Harry, however, was madder than he'd ever been before. So full of revulsion, hate, and anger, he turned and ran out of the Hall. He didn't want to throw a fit in front of everyone; it would simply be too embarrassing. And chances were that if he did freak out, Draco would comfort him or something and make him look even more ridiculous than he already did. He was embarrassed enough as it was, having been completely owned in front of the entire staff and student population.

Once into the hallway, Harry continued running until he got outside into the wind. He enjoyed the cold gusts whipping at his face, as if peeling off the humiliation he felt inside the building. Outside was safe for the time being—he would be alone. The wind was his friend as Harry ran all the way to the edge of the lake. The boy sat under a tree and looked out over the water, throwing rocks into the waves to get his anger out.

Harry pretty sure he was unanimously viewed as the submissive—there was no mistaking that. Draco had probably planned the entire morning breakfast scene—kiss and all—down to the very last hand placement.

And that was when Harry remembered something. When they were kissing, where had his hands been? In theory they should have been around Draco's waist, right? That was the most manly place to put them.

But for some reason Harry didn't think he'd put his hands around Draco's waist, because how could he have if Draco had his hands around Harry's?

Uh oh. Draco had put his hands on Harry's waist. Why hadn't the brunette noticed and moved them? Sure, Harry had been thinking about other things, but he certainly should have registered that Draco's hands were in a bad place!

Harry threw a rock as hard as he could, having it land somewhere far away in the water. He was angry and frustrated. Yes, with Draco, but mostly with himself. His plans weren't working; he was making himself look weaker whenever he tried to fight against Draco. Still, if he didn't fight against Draco's advances, then he'd come across as weak anyhow. There was no winning in the situation. What was he supposed to do? Fight, or give in?

"Hey Harry," Hermione said as she walked up. She planted herself beside her friend, looking at him with a kind expression, "You okay?"

"No," Harry snapped, chucking another rock toward the water. He didn't look where it landed; instead he focused his attention on his friend.

"Why not?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Well... Ah, never mind."

"Come on, Harry," Hermione pressed, "You can talk to me."

"I don't know what to say though, Hermione. What do you want me to say?" Harry asked.

"Well, just say what's on your mind. That's always a good place to start," Hermione said.

"Well...I guess I can say that I'm hungry and want breakfast, but I also want to wait until everyone is out of the Great Hall. I don't want to deal with anyone."

"And why not?"

"Uh, well I guess I just.... Don't know what to say to them."

"And why not?"

"Well, because I guess I'm confused a bit on what I should be doing..."

"Well, isn't that cute, Potter?" Hermione said.

Harry frowned at his friend. "What?"

Hermione pulled out her wand and waved it, changing into Draco, "I said that's cute, Potter. Have you ever heard of glamours? They are quite handy, you know."

Then Harry exploded, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU CAN'T JUST WALK AROUND PRETENDING TO BE SOMEONE ELSE AND YOU CAN'T JUST PUT GLAMOURS ON ME AND YOU CAN'T JUST TRIP ME AND MAKE ME LOOK WEAK CUZ IT'S MEAN AND I DON'T LIKE IT AND YOU CAN'T JUST ACT LIKE IT'S ALL GOOD AND I SHOULD BE HAPPY BECAUSE I'M NOT AND YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE AND I'M LEAVING!!!!!!" he shouted, jumping up from the ground and stomping away.

Draco grinned, following after him, "So then, I can't cast glamours on you anymore?" he asked.

"NO!" was Harry's answer.

Draco smirked. "Well I guess if I want marks on you, I'll have to put them there myself manually, is that correct?"

Harry glared back at Draco, not bothering to dignify the question with an answer. He didn't feel that it needed one, nor did it deserve one. Harry was not going to bother. He kept walking quickly instead, perhaps picking up the pace just a bit. Could he outrun Draco?

Draco's smirk widened. "And in your list of things I can't do, you never mentioned our kiss. So I take it I'm still allowed to do that?"

Harry reeled on Draco. "No, you can't do that either!" he shouted.

"And what if I do anyway?"

"Well then I'll.... I'll.....uh..." Harry had to pause and think of a good threat, "Uh.... do something! ...Just don't, okay??"

Draco chuckled, slinking one arm around Harry's neck to pull him closer. The two boys were chest-to-chest then, looking into the other's eyes. "Stuttering, Potter? I swear you get cuter by the minute..." as he trailed off, he leaned in to kiss Harry.

But Harry shoved the other away and continued stomping off, turning back to yell, "Draco, the deal is off I'm OUT!" Harry ignored the fact hat his face was burning, convincing himself that it was out of anger. After all, there was no other explanation for that deep a blush, right?


	5. The Hat

**Chapter Five**

Getting back into the school, Harry went straight to his dorm. He stripped into his boxers and crawled into bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep the day away. Or maybe his life, whatever came first.

Unfortunately, he didn't get the chance to do either.

"Did you HEAR what Zabini got the other day? That stupid Slytherin got a Cursed Hat!" Seamus all but yelled as he entered the dorm. Dean was behind him and the two flopped onto their respective beds.

"What's the difference?" Dean asked, "What does it even do?"

"I don't even know, but I want a Cursed Hat!" Seamus whined. Dean rolled his eyes and Harry pretended he was invisible. During the eye roll, though, Dean's pupils found that they were not alone in the room.

"Oh Hey, Harry, I didn't see you there," he said. Seamus, who had been lying down, sat up to look at Harry.

"Ron told us you had some hickeys. Guess we all know who they came from," Seamus stated with a slight grin.

Harry sent the other a glare. "It's a glamour that was forcefully put on me," he defended.

Seamus shrugged, his grin widening. "Sure, sure." He lay back down.

Harry narrowed his eyes, then decided to change the topic of conversation. "So how did you know that Blaise got a hat?" he asked.

"Came during post this morning. His owl dropped it right in front of him. He was all like, 'Sweet.'. That's all he said about it. He wouldn't answer any questions from the other students, so no one really knows what the thing does. Everyone's kind of avoiding him now, you see, because they don't like the sound of a 'Cursed Hat'. I don't blame them, either. I think that Zabini is digging the attention, though; he's totally eating it up, twirling that hat so that people notice it. He wears it sometimes, like when he's eating, but rather than that he twirls it around and plays with it so that people's eyes are drawn to the constant motion." Seamus sighed as the other two wondered how he got all that out on one breath. Neither asked.

"Weird," Harry mused, "Wonder what it's for."

"Who knows. Probably some dark magic. I'd not be surprised if it was some Death Eater thing that was sent to kill you," Seamus said.

"Seamus..." Dean said warningly.

Seamus gave his friend a look."We were both thinking it, I'm just saying..." He looked to Harry directly. "Stay away from him for a while, until we figure out what the hell that hat does."

Harry shrugged. "Okay." Frankly, he wasn't very worried about the whole hat business. Still, he was curious. It gave him something else to think about, at the very least. It was better than thinking about _Draco_, that was for sure.

Harry sighed and sat up, deciding he would not get peace in his room. He had to leave before they brought up the incident in the Great Hall—that was something he did not want to talk about. At all. Not even a little bit.

As he left the room, Harry heard a bit of a quiet conversation coming from his two friends. They didn't think he heard them. "Why would the Death Eaters send a HAT to kill Harry Potter? That's just retarded," Dean scolded, "There's no need to get Harry worried over a HAT, of all things." Harry didn't mention that he wasn't worried, for the exact reason that it WAS just a hat. If Harry Potter was afraid of a hat, then he might as well be tossed into Hufflepuff or some such nonsense. Gryffindors being afraid of hats—that was preposterous.

"Well the Sorting Hat is pretty powerful—this hat could be special, too!" Seamus defended. Harry was down the stairs and out of earshot after that, just making his way through the common room and into the hall when he came across someone.

Blaise Zabini was against the wall in the hallway, leaning against the stone while spinning his black hat on his right-hand pointer finger. He looked up at Harry and grinned, pushing off of the stone and walking over to the other.

And strangely enough, Harry felt his heart start beating faster. He'd just swore that he wasn't afraid of the hat, but seeing it coming toward him was making his heart go into hyper drive. What if it was there to kill him? It looked deceivingly innocent.

Harry started backing away from Blaise nervously, not wanting the other to get too close. What exactly could the hat do?

Blaise raised an eyebrow and stopped. "What the hell you backin away for?" he asked.

Harry felt rather stupid then, though he didn't go any closer. He straightened his posture and brought his chest up. He wanted to look at least a little braver. "What's the hat for?" he demanded.

Blaise looked a tad startled, then looked down at the hat on his finger. He stopped twirling it, holding it up. "Oh, this?" He shrugged and tossed it, causing the hat to disappear. He'd sent it back to his room—he'd Accio for it later if he needed it. "Don't worry about it," Zabini said.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded, getting to his next question.

Blaise moved closer and that time, Harry didn't back up, he stood his ground stubbornly. "Hm, Draco's right," Blaise stated offhandedly, "You ARE kind of cute."

Harry was caught off guard. "He said I was cute?"

"Where's your little buddy, Ron?"

Harry frowned. "Eating, I'd assume."

"No, he left the hall some time after you did. Couldn't find him after, though." Blaise stated.

"Why are you looking for him?" Harry asked. He was hesitant again. A Slytherin looking for Ron? One of Draco's friends, no less, and Zabini had a cursed hat... things were not looking good. What did Blaise want with Ron?

"We were supposed to work on our project, but I guess he's hiding," Blaise answered smoothly, "Oh well, I'll find him if that's what he wants..." he turned and started walking away, an air of superiority about him. Harry frowned at the others back as he left, watching as Blaise Accio'd the black hat back into his hand to spin as he turned the corner. Harry found the other untrustworthy—at the very least, the Gryffindor didn't understand Zabini. Blaise was just one of those mysterious people that always seemed suspicious, and most often times were. Harry decided that he did not like Blaise, and worried for his friend.

Ron tapped his foot against the cold floor, letting out a sigh. He was in the owlery with Errol, the bird stumbling around a bit and nearly falling over as he walked along the floor. Ron told him to sit still, but Errol seemed to want practice walking. Heaven knew he needed it, so Ron didn't tell him again.

Minutes passed and Ron was starting to get bored. He'd been hiding in the owlery for almost an hour after breakfast, not wanting to be found by Blaise. For some reason, he had a bad feeling about the fact that Blaise had received a hat that was supposedly cursed. What also didn't sit well with him was the fact that Blaise had winked at him from across the hall—Ron was the first one Blaise looked at once he received the hat. Ron might have been overanalyzing things, but his gut told him that something bad was going to happen.

And when Ron's gut told him something, the boy listened. Carefully. After all, if his stomach knew when he had to eat and when he was full (if he ever was), then it was rather knowledgeable and deserved to be listened to when it tried to tell him other things.

Ron was not sure why he chose to stay in the owlery of all places. In a school that big, he figured that he could have been able to pick a thousand other places less likely or known to hide. Hell, he even could have slipped into the Shrieking Shack.

Still, barely anyone went into the owlery anyway, so that could attribute to the reason Ron chose it. He might as well pick someplace he knew no one really went instead of getting lost in the school and taking a chance on a random room. In Hogwarts, one never knew what they would find behind any given door; there were known to be three-headed dogs and basilisks if one took a single wrong turn.

Ron didn't know why he didn't realize that if Blaise couldn't find him, the Zabini would send an owl to him. It was common sense, Ron decided as the other boy entered the room. Of course Blaise would try to owl him. Why didn't he think of that earlier?

Blaise Zabini strolled into the owlery, calling out the name of his owl as he entered and holding his arm out for the large bird to land on. A Great Horned Owl perched itself on Blaise's arm and the boy petted it a bit before it hooted at Ron, causing Blaise to follow its gaze and grin.

"Well, that wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be," Zabini stated. His owl scooted up his arm to his shoulder as Blaise put his arm back to his side. The owl eyed Ron momentarily, then hooted at Errol, who turned around to look at the new arrival and fell over.

Blaise frowned. "Is that owl drunk?" he asked.

Ron frowned. "No, just really stupid." He reached over and helped the owl stand up again.

"Shame." Blaise dismissed it and looked back to Ron. "Are you ready to work on the project now or not?"

"Not."

"Wrong answer, let's go." With a swish of Blaise's wand, Ron was levitating, floating after Zabini as he left the owlery. Ron crossed his arms but allowed the spell to carry him. The Great Horned Owl left Blaise's shoulder and stood by Errol, the two having what seemed to be a conversation as the boys left.

~~Some Time Later~~

"You actually did work?" Draco asked. The two were seated on the couch in the Slytherin common room, reclining while watching the fire burn. Draco had changed the red flames to an ice blue, so that they would be more interesting to watch. The glow of the icy flames lit up the boy's faces and made an eerie shine, though the two didn't care. Had Pansy been there she'd of taken a picture to sell it to the other students, though she was not there—she was with Hermione.

Blaise nodded. "I had to make him trust me at least a little bit, not hide from me. You don't think I'm scary, do you?"

Draco considered. "You don't grab my ass every time I pass you in the hallway. The Weasel's opinion and mine differ for a good reason."

"Hey, if you want me to, then by all means I can grab your-"

"No thanks." The two sat in silence for a moment before Draco sighed, breaking the quiet. "Potter doesn't want to see me anymore. I have to change that somehow though...any ideas?"

"Sure, but they're not exactly legal."

"You're no help."

"I'm just overly creative. One day, my ideas will save the world."

"Right."

Theodore Knott strutted into the Slytherin common room, peeling his robe off. "Pansy is getting all buddy-buddy with that stupid mudblood Gryffindor. It's sickening, really—what the hell can a girl like that offer Pansy? There's no reason, no explanation for her actions. Why be friends with a Gryffindor anyway? That's just sick!"

Draco considered. "You don't care that I kissed Harry Potter?" In comparison to his kiss with Harry in front of the entire school, Draco figured that Knott wouldn't pay attention to something as minute as Pansy and her friends. Apparently, Draco was wrong.

Theodore shrugged, "Potter can take you places and offer you social status, etc. I'm rather miffed I didn't think of that sooner. I congratulate you on that. The point is that the stupid Gryffindor girl is ruining Pansy's image. Why, I heard a second-year Slytherin gossiping about Pansy's 'friendship' with the girl! I tried to talk some sense into Pansy but she won't listen." He gave Draco a look. "Make her stop hanging with Gryffindors in her free time, or at LEAST make up an excuse for her to do so. You can't let the Slytherin image go down because of her. She's not worth it. You have to do something."

"Consider it done..." Draco drawled. As much as he didn't care about Pansy, he knew that Slytherin would fall apart within itself if something was not done. Being the Slytherin Ice Prince gave him a responsibility to do something—if he didn't, people would lose trust in him and his own social status would go down. That was something he could not afford—he was in this thing with Potter to get more fame, not lose it.

Still, he had to play his cards right so that he stayed in the deal with Harry. Sure, the boy had ducked out, but Draco wasn't going to let him go that easily. No, things were not done between them. Not even close.

"Good." Theodore sighed, then looked to Blaise. "What the hell is the big deal about your hat, anyway?" he asked.

Blaise shrugged, then grinned mischievously. "Want to put it on and find out?" he offered.

Theodore frowned. "No thanks." He said, and left the common room to go toward his dorm.

Blaise chuckled to himself. "Thought not," he said.


	6. The Curse

**Chapter Six**

The next day, Ron headed down the hallway, late another day for Potions class. Quite sad actually; he was hoping to get there on time that day. That plan may have worked better if his alarm clock was plugged in. Maybe.

Nearing the classroom, Ron sighed at the crowd of people standing around. So Snape had decided not to open the door that day. Just great. Should he stand around? Or head to the library and catch up on some much-needed sleep? Sneak down to the kitchens for a snack? Waiting around didn't seem very fun, but then again he didn't want to sleep. He'd just eaten, but he picked wait.

"And then he said he didn't care!!!" Pansy was gossiping. Ron tuned her out and sighed; nothing she talked about ever interested him, ever. It was a shame she had to talk so loud.

Ron also heard another girl happily talking somewhere down the hallway; probably about something childish and unimportant. Ron didn't bother listening in on that, either. He stood beside Blaise, who was probably going to be in trouble. Blaise had a habit of being late every day, and took pride in his long-standing record of lateness. That day though, Blaise was forced to be on time because although he'd ended up late, the classroom wasn't unlocked anyhow.

Blaise was twirling his black hat on his finger, uninterested. His face sat in an emotionless state, regarding Ron with a glance and a slight smirk. The boy seemed pleased that Ron had stood beside him. There was a pocket of space around Blaise—an area no one dared fill because of the mystery of his hat.

Ron was about to tell the other that he didn't choose to stand beside Blaise just because he wanted to, but because there was no place else to stand....but then he figured that he didn't need to defend his standing placement to the other. He kept his mouth shut and looked pointedly away.

Finally Snape opened the door and let the students in. Ron headed straight for Hermione, but found that there were no empty seats beside her. Pansy had taken that seat, beating Ron to one of his best friends in order to talk to Hermione. Ron frowned slightly and let his eyes wander around the room, spotting a seat empty beside Blaise. There were two empty seats left—one beside Blaise, and one in between Crabbe and Goyle. Ron's choice was remarkably easy, he decided, as he walked toward Blaise.

Blaise greeted him with a small grin and continued spinning the hat on his finger. Ron sat down beside the other and gave a slight smile back, only to have the mirth completely drained from his face at Blaise's next gesture. The other boy planted his hand on Ron's thigh, firmly there and quite high up. In other words—completely inappropriate and unwelcome. Ron felt a lurch in his stomach but kept it under control. If he puked in Snape's class, he knew he'd have detention for the rest of his life, if he was lucky. Puking was not an option.

Ron shoved the other's hand off of himself, not knowing what to say to the Slytherin. What would anyone say in that situation? The boy was basically a complete stranger, and yet he was all up in Ron's business, wearing a ridiculously sexy grin! Blaise was always groping Ron, every time he got when passing the other in the hallway. Just when Ron thought that the Zabini was done with that and would treat him normally, he found out that he was wrong. Blaise was not done feeling him up—not even close.

"Oh come on." Blaise had amusement plain in his voice and expression. "We are _married_, you know. There's no need to be shy." He winked and chuckled.

"WHAT???" Ron could not believe what he was hearing. He didn't know how to respond to that either. They weren't married, they were doing a project together!

Blaise laughed, though Snape was not impressed. "Five points from Gryffindor!" He hollered as he glared at Ron, who was red with either shame or embarrassment. Sitting beside Blaise was a bad idea, Ron decided, and the next time he had to sit on the Slytherin side of the classroom, he'd for sure choose to sit in between Draco's goonies. They'd bully him, sure, Nut at least they wouldn't attempt to feel him up and sexually assault him.

What didn't help Ron's hot-and-bothered state was the fact that throughout the entire class, Blaise just watched him with an amused expression. The Slytherin didn't even bother pretending to pay attention, he just allowed himself to very obviously stare at the boy beside him. Ron didn't know what else he could really do in such a situation—he hadn't had any practice with people staring at him. No one stared at him. Ever. Ron didn't particularly like it, either, but every time he tried to tell Blaise to stop, Snape took House Points away. Ron was getting an insane amount of glares from the Gryffindors by the end of class.

"On their side now, Ron? Sitting with them and helping them win the House Cup?" one Gryffindor girl asked as she passed him. Ron scowled, then reeled on Blaise and was about to give the boy a piece of his mind when he was stopped by the look of the other. It was still twisted in that amused, sinister expression, but it also held some sort of other look, one that Ron could not identify. He shut his mouth.

Blaise grinned and the unknown glint in his eyes was gone. He spun his hat once more and pushed it onto Ron's head. "See ya round, _Hubby_." Ron blinked for a second more before growling and yanking the hat off of his head, leaving the classroom quickly but finding that Zabini was gone by the time he got out. Ron would have to keep the hat until he next saw his project partner. What a bother.

"Well that looked almost friendly," Hermione stated, coming up behind Ron. "What were you two talking about?"

Ron scowled. "I didn't even get to say anything... and he called me 'Hubby'," he grumbled.

Hermione giggled, shaking her head. "Boys will be boys," she said as she walked off with Pansy. Ron frowned after her wondering what the hell she meant by that.

Then he had an idea.

"Pansy!" he called, jogging over to the two girls. "This is Blaise's. Give it back to him for me?" He held out the hat Blaise had left him with.

"No way," Pansy said, "That hat is cursed, I ain't touching it."

Ron's stomach flipped. "What does it do?" he asked.

Pansy frowned, eyeing the hat. "As far as I know, whoever puts it on has some sort of bond with Blaise... It's a Zabini family heirloom, it's how they get the bride they want. I'm not putting that on because I have my sights set on Draco. Ending up with Blaise wouldn't be in my best interest." She shook her head snootily.

"Just touching it doesn't matter though, right?"

"Yeah, it's only if you put it on that it'll actually work. It fuses the two people together magically very loosely, though the real effects require a night of sleep to settle in. Once settled, it's a very strong bond/curse thing." Pansy informed.

"What are the effects?" Ron asked, worried. The hat had been on his head—Blaise had put it there. The other boy must have had some sort of plan for Ron even if the redhead didn't know it. ...Those Slytherins, he should have seen something like that happening. It was typical Slytherin behaviour, manipulating people with cursed objects. Still, what did the curse accomplish? What did the Zabini want with Ron? Ron had next to nothing to offer him. Ron was of no use at all, really.

"Not really sure, I didn't ask... why, what does it matter?" Pansy raised a brow. Hermione gave Ron a knowing look—she understood what was going on there.

"No reason. What should I do with it?"

"Give it back to him I suppose." She shrugged, laughed, and walked away with Hermione. Before the girl left, Hermione gave Ron a sympathizing look. Ron stood still, his stomach dead. He stayed on the floor as if nailed there, letting the other students rush past him to be at their next classes on time. Ron did not move. Somehow, being at his classes on time didn't seem so important anymore.

"Where's your hat?" Draco asked. He didn't especially care, but he was sort of interested. He was just getting used to his best friend having the hat around all the time, and since the other was not twirling it like usual, Draco noticed its absence.

The blonde reclined on the Slytherin Common room couch, stretching his feet out against the tiled floor as he gazed into the trembling fire. He wasn't thinking of much save for Harry, though he could lend a little attention to Blaise for a while. It wasn't as if he couldn't think about Harry later.

"Gave it to Ron." Blaise shuffled his feet a bit. He was standing near the wall, admiring a picture there as he talked with his friend. He started walking toward the nearest armchair, though.

"You want the Weasel to pick your future wife for you?" Draco asked. He frowned at Blaise disapprovingly. "That boy has no taste, you'll probably end up with Hermione if you let him do it."

"No, I shoved it onto his head," Blaise stated.

"But that makes you two..." Draco looked to his friend, not bothering to finish his thought, "...right?"

Blaise nodded, plopping himself into the cushioned armchair near the couch. He looked into the fire, crossing his legs. "I don't really know why I did it, but it's too late to take it back now." He waved his hand dismissively.

"Break the curse then, I suppose," Draco stated. "Not much else you can do to get around it, is there?"

"The curse has been on all sorts of things in my family... Still, I don't think anyone has broken it."

"Have they tried?"

"Last year, my sister married a Thestral named Rolf. Half of the wedding guests couldn't even see the thing. You can bet she tried to break that damn curse. She tried everything she could!"

"Nothing worked?"

"Nothing, she couldn't find anything that broke it. She did find one thing that lessened the effects though; slowed them down a little."

"What was it?"

"Dragon piss."

"Wow, she was really desperate."

"Yeah."

"What did she do with the dragon piss?"

"Drank it."

"Wow."

"I'd say it's not worth it."

"Definitely not."

The two sat in silence for a while.

* * *

_**A/N: I started reading Harry Potter finally! lol, I'm on the first book, at the point where the train is juuuust taking Harry to Hogwarts. Draco is adorable!!!!! XD**_


	7. Bad Luck

**Chapter Seven**

Harry recognized the hat before he realized the one carrying it was his best friend. Immediately, he was on guard again. He demanded of Ron why the boy had it, though Ron shrugged and tossed it onto one of the nearby Gryffindor chairs. "Blaise put it on me and ditched. So I guess I have a curse on me now, or something." He seemed confused on the matter as he shoved his hands in his pockets, standing dejectedly in the common room beside Harry.

"Maybe we can break it," Harry suggested, "Have the effects set in yet?"

"I don't even know what the effects _are_, and Hermione is gone off with Pansy, so I don't think the two of us would be able to figure out what to do anyway."

"Talk to Dumbledore, I'd say. He'd be able to tell us what the hat does, at least. Let's go, Ron." Ron nodded in agreement on the plan as he leaned over and snatched the hat again, following Harry toward the exit of Gryffindor Tower. Ron tried to spin the tilby on his finger like he'd seen Blaise do, but dropped it and picked it up with the decision that it was harder than Zabini made it look.

It took a while, but the two best friends got to Dumbledore's office in relatively good time and went inside, entering the old man's office and taking seats.

Dumbledore smiled at them before noticing the hat. The moment he spotted the hat, his smile grew larger. And a bit larger after that. His eyes twinkled a bit. He made an amused sound. He knew something.

Harry frowned, and then looked to Ron, who was again attempting to spin the hat on his finger. He failed, cussed under his breath, looked back at Harry, and then put the hat down with a sigh while turning his attention to Dumbledore. Ron was the first to speak. "What does it do?" He didn't need to mention what 'it' was; the three in the room already knew what he was asking about.

Dumbledore smiled. "Why that, my boy," he said, "Is a magical bonding hat."

"I asked what it did."

"It bonds two living beings together magically."

"Yes we know that," Harry cut in, "We're asking what exactly it does to bond them—what kind of a bond? Can we break it?"

"There is really no way to break it as far as I know, though the curse itself can be highly dangerous—deadly, even, if the cursed one resists the bond."

"Elaborate," Harry ordered.

Dumbledore nodded, going on. "What the hat does is cause horrid luck for the person on whom it was placed on."

"That bloody git!" Ron screeched in outrage. He sat up in his seat, grabbing the armrests with his hands as he looked at Harry. "He's trying to kill me! That bloody psycho is trying to kill me with a hat!!" Dumbledore put his hand up to silence the boy, but he was ignored. Ron seemed to be in a panic, or perhaps a rage.

The redhead stood, pointing accusingly at the hat which remained on his chair. "Can you believe it, Harry? That's going to kill me! That stupid little cursed hat is going to give me bad luck! I'll bet it'll involve spiders too—it always bloody does!! Really, I-"

"SIIIIILEEENCCE!!" Dumbledore cried. Ron gulped and sat back down in his seat, positioning the hat on his lap again and paying attention to the headmaster.

"He's not trying to kill you—I think," Dumbledore started. Ron cut him off though.

"You think! You THINK! I'd appreciate a more assuring-"

Dumbledore ignored him and went on. "You'll have perfectly fine luck, as long as you make sure to..." he trailed off, opening a little box on his desk.

"Make sure to what?" Harry urged. Ron was silent for the minute.

"Would you like a lemon drop? They're rather sweet," Dumbledore offered. He picked one out of the small box and unwrapped it.

"I don't want a bloody lemon drop; I want to know what to do to make sure I don't have bad luck! I have bad enough luck as it is, if this situation is any indication!" Ron cried.

"Well." Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth. He was obviously taking his time with the answer; probably enjoying the moments that Ron spent frantically trying to get the man to speak. It was a form of torture, really, that the old man employed. "I suppose the only way to steer clear of fateful events is..." he savoured the candy for a tense minute. "...is to be near the hat's master. If you're within I'd say...about ten feet, then your luck should be fine. The further you go away from him—in mind or in physical distance—the worse your luck will be."

"In mind or physically? What's that 'in mind' about? How can I be close to him in my mind??" Ron asked. He wasn't all that sure if he wanted to know, but it was too late to take back the question.

"The more you like Blaise, the better things will be. If you hate him then you'll have to by physically close to him—one or the other. If you love him then you won't need to be anywhere near him."

"Whoa, who said anything about love here? I'm not going to LOVE Blaise! I don't care how long I have to be around him—If I have to be attached to his shoulder for the next fifty years I still wouldn't even LIKE him!"

Harry shook his head, turning to Dumbledore again. "You said that the curse can be deadly," he prompted, "Deadly how?"

"Deadly in that if the person who got cursed refuses to be near the hat master, he or she might have such bad luck that they could be killed by most unfortunate things. Moaning Myrtle, for example, was cursed before she died. She might be able to give you more information, I suppose, though going into a girl's lavatory is forbidden to male students." He swished the candy in his mouth. "Though you could get Mrs. Granger to do it for you."

Ron and Harry looked at each other for a moment, and then looked back at the white-haired man.

"If it's fatal, then why is such a thing allowed in the school?" Harry demanded, "This could kill Ron!"

"Ah, well by all technicalities it is illegal to even be used in the wizarding world... though, I make a few exceptions. In some cases, it turns out quite well."

"And in some cases, people die," Ron snapped. "I don't want to die! Blimey, Harry, I might die!!" he looked terrified, and with good reason.

Harry frowned, his anger starting to boil under his skin as he looked back at Dumbledore. "You just let cursed objects like that into the school? Why didn't you take it away from Blaise before he could use it???"

Dumbledore tisked. "Harry, I've made many exceptions for you over the past. Just because this isn't in your favour does not mean it isn't the same thing. Some things just have to be allowed to play their course—aren't you at least a bit interested in how this turns out?"

Dumbledore obviously was.

"NO!" Harry and Ron shouted in unison. Dumbledore seemed troubled by that, but then smiled.

"Any more questions?"

"No." Ron and Harry got up and left the office, deciding that they would talk to Moaning Myrtle the following day. There was no use getting into a rush over it anyway if they couldn't prevent anything from happening and there was no way to break the curse.


	8. Stumped

**Chapter Eight**

"Any progress?" Blaise asked. It was at the breakfast table—the Slytherin one of course—that the two were seated side-by-side. Draco knew exactly what Blaise was referring to and looked at the Zabini as the male sat to his right in order for them both to face the Gryffindor table.

"Not yet, he's avoiding me."

"So what are you gonna do? Let it go?"

"No, I'll talk to him. Taunt him, or challenge him into demanding the deal be back on," Draco stated. He pushed his egg out of the way to get at a fried potato concealed underneath.

"That's not very Slytherin of you," Blaise stated, "Do you really want to be the one going to him? Why not make him come to you? That's what I do."

"Ignoring the fact that you cheat with curses so they don't have a choice but to go to you eventually or die, what would you suggest?"

Blaise shrugged. "Not sure...but Poor Potter has a thing about dreams, right? You could find some spell that could manipulate his dreams or something. He might be convinced that he needs to talk to you then, or that he needs to accept the deal again."

Draco thought on it for a while before nodding. "Good. To the library, then." He stood and left, but Blaise stuck around to eat and watch Ron, who was eating with his eyes half closed. He looked rather tired, and Blaise wondered why...

* * *

Ron and Harry were seated at their table, having pulled an all-nighter in order to avoid Ron getting the sleep required for the curse to set in.

"The two of you look dreadful—what did you _do_ last night?" Hermione asked. She was worrying over her friends again. "Please tell me it wasn't dangerous." She gave the two boys a look.

"We just stayed up," Ron stated.

"Stayed up? Stayed up!! We have a test today in Charms; are you two insane?!" Hermione was almost hysterical.

"Hermione, a Muggle can go eleven days without sleep before they die. Wizards can go much longer—we'll be fine."

"What are you....Wait, you're not planning on sleeping tonight either???" She squeaked.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, then decided that if they wanted her not to tell a teacher, they'd have to lie to her. "Oh yeah," said Ron, "Of course we're going to sleep tonight. We have a test in Potions tomorrow after all."

"Actually that was last Tuesday, Ron," Harry put in. Ron shrugged.

Hermione shook her head. "Well anyway, I hope you two take a nap soon, at the very least." She gave the two of them another meaningful look before the three fell into silence. She wasn't completely convinced but the boys knew they could safely pull one more all-nighter before she tried to take matters into her own hands. They'd have to think of an excuse the next day to fend her off once more; no sleep was crucial to Ron's sanity, ironically enough.

Harry and Ron got up from the table once they were done eating, vowing to meet in the girl's lavatory to talk to Moaning Myrtle during their free time.

* * *

Myrtle was happy to see them (Harry especially, of course), and complied to answer a few questions. Harry and Ron took a seat on the bathroom floor and Myrtle copied them, hovering just above the ground. "What is it that you'd like to talk about, Harry?"

"Well, we have a few questions," Harry stated. He glanced at Ron, who held up the black tilby. He still had not returned it to Blaise. "About that. It's cursed...one of the Zabini heirlooms. We were told you knew about them?"

Myrtle squealed and stood up, "Oh, it was horrible! I remember the day I put on my cursed garment. It was a pair of mittens, given to me in the winter when I was cold! I didn't know who they were from, they were an anonymous gift brought by my owl on Christmas. They were an ugly colour—chartreuse I believe—and rather rough also. The moment I tried them on they changed into soft, black gloves though. They were really rather nice." She was talking dreamily, but then she sobered up a bit.

"Though shortly after that, I started having terrible luck. Things kept falling toward me and I kept tripping on things, and there was this one boy—Donnatollis Zabini—who always saved me. It was really quite romantic, but he was a Slytherin and my family is against those, so no matter how nice he was I refused to be with him. I didn't want to let my parents down, of course. So I had to shut him down, every time he asked. And eventually he stopped helping me, and I started getting rather hurt by a lot of things. Of course, I'm not sure if it's related or not, but when he left the school on some vacation, I died." She looked mournful, and then she gasped loudly and moaned, flying up and into her toilet only to splash water all over the place.

Harry looked at Ron.

Ron looked at Harry, a rather terrified expression on his face.

"I'm dead," Ron whispered fearfully.

Harry shook his head. "Not dead. We'll find a way out of this, somehow. We just need more _time_!"

* * *

Draco and Blaise were eating breakfast together again, side by side as they ignored Pansy. Draco ad asked her to sit near them—in front of them, to be exact—so that they could easily loo over the top of her head at the Gryffindors. Draco had spent the last two days researching the dream manipulation and everything related to it, only to find that Potter was not sleeping. Rather bitter, Draco sat in silence while watching his favourite Gryffindor across the hall.

"Any progress now?" Blaise asked.

"...and then she told me that she knew that already, and that—guess what—Lavender already knew too! Which really puts a twist on things, because _Dean_ said..." Pansy didn't seem to notice that no one was listening.

"Not at all," the blonde answered. "That dreams thing would have worked—I think—but the bloody idiot stopped sleeping! I have you to blame for that; you and that stupid hat of yours..." Draco grumbled a while, stabbing his breakfast harder than necessary with his fork.

Blaise laughed good-naturedly. "Well I don't think they'll be up for much longer," he said, "Not with what I got Pansy to get Hermione to put into their drinks." He grinned evilly. "In fact, I'd give them maybe ten minutes before they fall completely unconscious. After two days of being awake they'll surely sleep for a good and proper time." He chuckled at his genius.

And his plan was just that—genius. The only thing he had not accounted for was Seamus. Seamus Finnigan was the variable that Blaise had not thought to factor in. Of course, Finnigan was then his downfall.

Draco and Blaise watched with interest as the events unfolded at the Gryffindor table.

* * *

After trying to turn his pumpkin juice into wine, Seamus was left with charred bangs and a smoking, empty cup. He wasted no time in snatching Ron's—right out of the redhead's hand as the male was about to take a sip.

"Hey!" Ron protested, though Seamus ignored him. Another explosion sounded shortly after the new cup was placed in front of the Irish, but by then Ron had stolen Harry's cup and was about to drink from that one.

Again he was not given the chance as Finnigan took the cup out of Ron's hand and made a smoking mess out of that one too. Eventually Ron just gave up on drinking and kept eating. He was rather hungry after their second all-nighter.

Blaise's plan had failed in a matter of seconds, all because of Seamus Finnigan.

* * *

"Wow, what are the odds of that?" Blaise asked with a forced, uneasy laugh.

"Don't talk to me." Draco snapped.


	9. Insomnia

**Chapter Nine**

Ron hadn't slept in three days and Harry had not slept in three days. The two of them looked rather dead; their skin was paler and they both had bags under their eyes. The amount of sugar and caffeine they ingested to stay awake caused them to become twitching masses that looked ready to pass out despite the energy running through their veins. Ron even got a few energy drinks from Fred and George, though they too were no help. The energy drinks only helped to make their writing a bit more illegible with the twitching they promoted.

The reason for such madness—a feat that Hermione was previously losing her mind over with lecture after lecture about maturity but had given up on—was that Ron was afraid of the hat curse. Pansy had said that the effects didn't kick in until after a night of rest and if that was the case (which it proved to be, as he hadn't had any bad luck yet) then Ron simply didn't want to sleep. However, Minerva McGonagall was forced to inform the boys that if they did not sleep that night, they'd be sent to the hospital wing and drugged to sleep as a desperate measure.

So it was Ron's last day of freedom—when he woke up the following morning, the curse would be in place and his life would basically be over. It was a bleak last day indeed.

Harry took a nap on the breakfast table. He'd shown up in his pyjamas (which he didn't remember putting on) and the moment he was seated his head had flopped down and his arms cradled around it for a good sleep. Ron's vision was not quite right by that time so he went on talking to Harry despite the fact that the boy was sleeping. Ron was too focused on his food to notice that Harry was not answering him.

* * *

Draco and Blaise were at their table, watching Ron put syrup over his napkin and start trying to cut what he thought was a pancake.

"You picked a bright one, I'll give you that," Draco said sarcastically.

"Shut up," Blaise snapped.

* * *

Pansy and Hermione were in the library during breakfast that day, getting on their homework bright and early. The real fact was that neither of them had any homework to do anymore, they were just hanging out to be with each other. Still, if asked, they would have said they were working on their project.

Luckily, no one asked.

"So what's up with Ron and Harry lately?" Pansy asked. She had noticed they were looking rather dreadful recently but hadn't inquired on it earlier because it hadn't mattered much to her. However, Blaise and Draco had been acting all tense too, and she assumed that something had gone down between the four boys. She figured that Hermione would have the scoop for her.

"Ron is afraid to sleep because Blaise put that hat on him, and Harry stays up with him out of not being able to say no to a friend in need." She rolled her eyes. "That's boys for you though." She'd given up on trying to talk sense into them.

"Blaise put the hat on Ron?" Pansy asked. She was interested as she sat up. No one had told her that point. She'd make sure that the whole school found out the moment she left the library...

"Yup, a few days ago," Hermione explained, "I haven't really talked to them much—they don't make sense anymore—but as far as I know Ron is paranoid in the extreme and Harry is looking for an excuse to sleep when Ron isn't around."

"Weird. Theodore has been acting weird, and so has Blaise and Draco. Blaise especially. He's freaking out, whereas Draco just rants about how retarded Potter is. It really bothers him that Harry isn't sleeping. Blaise is worried too, and I guess I know why now. Doesn't explain Draco though—why would he care?"

"Probably some rivalry thing," Hermione stated, "It's no fun beating Harry if he's hardly awake. We even have a Quidditch game coming up! I hope they're done their theatrics by then or we'll have to do something."

"We?"

"Well yeah, they're our friends. Our friends, our responsibility."

"...I suppose..." Pansy did not suppose though; she wasn't planning on doing a thing about any of it, except maybe distracting Draco in a fun way so that he'd think about her rather than Harry...

Hermione saw that Pansy didn't agree with her, and therefore switched the subject. "Something was wrong with Knott too, you said?" she asked.

Pansy nodded. "He's been giving me nasty looks. Shoved me in the hallway once too. He's got issues and I'm tired of them... I'll probably be forced to do something soon if it all keeps up."

"What is he upset about?" Hermione asked.

Pansy knew what the guy was upset about—he didn't like that Pansy was spending so much time around Hermione. Still, he needn't show it so blatantly; he was a Slytherin after all!

"Not sure," Pansy lied, "But if I find out, I'll let you know."

"Okay." Their conversation went on from there in more boring directions.

* * *

"So what's all this about, anyway?" Blaise asked in class that day. They were in DADA, sitting beside each other again. Much better than sitting with Crabbe or Goyle, Draco had decided. Even if Blaise talked too much about Ron. "I mean, why do you care about Poor Potter?"

"I don't _care_." Draco defended. "The fact is that Potter is a chicken and can't handle a bit of bad publicity. He's too used to being tossed up on a throne and worshipped. I can't help but need to rub that in."

"Right... still, he ditched out on your little deal, you know. It's been days."

"No thanks to you by the way....besides, it's a minor detail. I'll rope him back in. He's a Gryffindor--they never completely duck out of anything." He was confident about that much. He hadn't lost his chance for a bit more fame yet.

"Well I'm sorry about what happened with the sleep draught, I thought it would work. However, in return I'll help you with researching dream stuff. What have you found so far?"

"We have to make a weird machine," Draco stated. "It's small and relatively easy, but I don't know where to find the parts."

"Room of Requirement," Blaise stated with a nod.

Draco nodded too, then asked offhandedly, "Why did you put the hat on Ron?" He knew his friend was dying for a chance to talk about the redhead again so Draco gave him his release.

"You know, I've been asking myself that same question, and I truly have no idea. It's not even that I really like him at all; I don't even know the kid. He's not from a wealthy family nor does he have much influence in society. The surname 'Weasley' doesn't exactly spark fear or admiration in the hearts of the wizarding common folk, and I clearly can't get ahead by being with the dude."

"What are you saying then?"

"I'm saying that I didn't mean to put the hat on him, I never even planned on it. I was as shocked as he was--the second I realized my mistake I ditched as fast as I could."

"You forgot that your hat was a little matchmaker and that the person you put it on would be stuck with you forever?"

"It's not forever," Blaise interjected, "It's only for like... ten years, tops. Plus if the two get married, then the effects stop."

"Then marry the Weasel and divorce him, pay some people off to keep their mouths shut, and go on like usual. That's the way I'd deal with it."

"Not that easy. I can't divorce or the effects will start up again, and the ten years start over."

"And you didn't think to burn the hat in case something like this happened?" Draco asked as if his friend was stupid. In Draco's mind, he kind of was.

"Destroying cursed objects isn't as easy as you make it sound. I'd have to perform all sorts of rituals, and even then the thing probably wouldn't burn. My family makes sure that the clothing article is used," Blaise explained.

"What for? They've probably all used one of the articles themselves. They'd know how awful it was. Why would they wish that on their children?"

"The Zabinis love revenge, Draco. Your family probably does too. The fact of the matter is that BECAUSE they've used it, they want other people to go through what they did. Only the oldest know how to place the curse, and once the article is given to the inheritor, it must be with him at all times."

"And if it's not?"

"Then the inheritor has horrible luck. It's the same as when the hat is given away, only the affected person switches, and the hat is hardly needed because the real curse is put in place."

"So just wear a hat for the rest of your life, it's not that bad. You didn't have to give it away."

"Like I really want to wear a black top hat for the rest of my life! It's not that fashionable, even if I could pull it off for a few days. Besides, the longer you keep the article, the uglier it becomes. The article tries to make you get rid of it."

"What did your sister's look like?"

"Atrocious. She had a scarf, and her scarf ended up being polka-dotted and striped. She pulled it off of herself and threw it out of aggravation while she was in the forest one time. It landed on a Thestral, and that was that."

"Wow, that's unfortunate."

"Yup. I didn't want to end up married to a Thestral. I prefer humans."

"And males, that look like weasels, especially."

"Shut up."


End file.
